Chapter 36 Alex
ALEX
I don’t know what time it is. Morning, night, it all blurs together. The chair beside her bed has become my home, the only place I belong. My fingers stay wrapped around hers, my head bent close, whispering to her, hoping she hears me in whatever place she is trapped in right now.
I squeeze her hand gently, rubbing my thumb over her skin like it might wake her up or she’ll eventually squeeze back.
She doesn’t.
I whisper to her between the silences. “I love you, Em.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s the only thing that will come out of my mouth, like I am making up for all the years that I should’ve said it to her, knowing that I might not get to tell her again.
The weight of it all is crushing, pressing into my chest like cinder blocks, suffocating me with every breath.
The door creaks open and I glance up as Frankie steps inside. He’s clutching a bouquet of red roses, her favorite. His expression is tight, like he’s trying to hold it together, but his eyes show the grief that’s clawing at him as fiercely as it’s tearing me apart.
“Hey. Brought these for her.” He sets down the vase on the side table.
I nod, swallowing hard. “She’ll love them.”
Frankie pulls a chair up on the other side of the bed and sits down. He exhales slowly, studying Emma. “This feels like deja vu,” he murmurs. “Feels like we were just here not that long ago, saying goodbye to Mom.”
I close my eyes for a second. The memory is still raw, years later.
“She should’ve had more time,” Frankie whispers. “My mom. And Emma should have more time, too. But our family never catches a damn break.”
I swallow hard. He’s right. Loss has followed them like a shadow their whole lives. Their father. Their mother. And now Emma’s hanging in the balance, and all we can do is sit here and watch.
Frankie clears his throat and squeezes Emma’s other hand. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Em. So you better fight, okay?”
He stays for a while, talking to her about random things: old memories, inside jokes, anything to fill the silence. I just sit back in the chair and let him have his time with her. I can’t get myself to leave the room, but it seems to be good enough for Frankie.
When he finally leaves, he gives me a look that says everything he can’t say out loud.
He’s scared, too.
A couple hours later, the door opens again. Cam’s back, carrying a bag, a coffee cup, and a look of exasperation.
“You need to eat,” he says, setting the bag down on the rolling tray. “And at least change your damn clothes. You looked fucked up.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Thanks, man. Real nice.”
Cam shrugs and shoves the coffee in my hands. “Just speaking facts.”
I take a sip, the warmth settling into my bones. I don’t realize how much I need it until it hits me. The exhaustion, the fear, the sheer helplessness—it's all drowning me.
Cam sits down in the chair Frankie occupied earlier. After a long silence, I lean back in my chair, staring at Emma’s face, willing her to open her eyes. The words flow out in a wave, like they’ve been locked up for ages and I finally set them free.
“I remember a specific day. I think Emma was sixteen. It was summer, probably one of the hottest days of the year. You were at work, and I was stuck driving her and Liv to the lake. I bitched about it the whole way, swore I had better things to do. When we got there, Emma ran straight to the water and jumped in, clothes and all. She was laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world.
I remember watching her, thinking… fuck, I’m in trouble. ”
Cam huffs out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That was the moment?”
I nod. “She was so damn happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone glow the way she did that day. And I just knew. I knew I was never going to be the same after that. I knew that I wanted to be the one to make her glow like that from that moment on.”
Cam looks up and meets my eyes.
I swallow hard, emotions thick in my throat. “Cam, I can’t—” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose her. I don’t want to grieve her longer than I ever got to love her.”
“I know, man,” is all he says, all he can say.